The Dream is Collapsing
by Miss Pennyfeather
Summary: Arthur and Ariadne have their own moments during Inception. The job lasts long enough for them to realize the dream is collapsing.
1. Chapter 1

**Of course I was lured into writing an Inception fanfic! After watching the movie and liking it more than a lot, I felt Ariadne and Arthur needed more attention, from me at least. They needed a lot more background, together or separately. They needed more story-time. So this is what I'm doing now. It sort of starts at the beginning of the movie, a quarter way through and continues throughout. I follow the line of the movie but I add some scenes, basically. I hope you enjoy it! And go see Inception if you haven't!**

Their footsteps echoed on the smooth surface of the metal floor. She looked back at the Penrose stairs, smirking to herself. That woman there was still picking up the files.

Through the glass walls, a soft light was cast on their faces and into his brown eyes.

Arthur had just told her something. She registered the words and looked around at the strangers passing by. They were projections of her own subconscious. Although, it felt as if they were separate individuals, independent and free-willed.

What if, some day, someone came to her and told her all this time she had just been a projection in someone's head and all that she had achieved, all that she had done, seemingly based on personal decisions, had just been the thoughts and orders of someone else's mind?

She wouldn't be able to stand it. Maybe she would end her life.

But then, would she wake up and be free?

Many wise men had firmly believed life was just a dream and death was the wake up call.

But how many dreams did it take to wake up from before you found something real?

Maybe it never really happened; you never got to something real after all.

Maybe there was no need for it. You'd just have to be content with what you had now.

In the end, did it really matter what was real?

She was getting dazed and confused in these dreary and yet completely logical thoughts. A shadow of sadness and doubt crossed her face as Arthur explained to her the complexity of each level.

She realized the best way to guard themselves from the projections and to stall time was to build a complicated maze.

'Exactly,' Arthur said, content that she was a fast learner. He had to admit, he hated having to over-explain things to someone. He liked it when people picked up the pace quickly. It was a relief to him that she absorbed everything fast.

It meant she could keep up. He wouldn't always have to look back and wait for her. At least he hoped that would be the case.

She paused, looking at her feet briefly, before smiling.

'My subconscious seems polite enough,' she mumbled.

Arthur looked down at her, his lip curving almost reluctantly into a half-smile. He wasn't used to such phrases. Not in this world.

'Wait. It will get worse,' he replied, chuckling.

She decided she liked it when he smiled. He seemed like a serious man, a man that wasn't plagued by nightmares like Cobb was. He seemed to have no reason to be sad or happy, or even remotely excited. He had experienced the dream world before and though it probably amazed him each and every time he always appeared impassive and professional about it. As if he wouldn't want to compromise his integrity and act like he couldn't handle a different world.

So when he chanced to smile, it was like a surprise to her.

Almost like a kick.

Both their smiles disappeared though when the subject of discussion was turned to Cobb. It was never an easy talk. He wasn't a man you could figure out by a simple debate. It had taken Arthur years to know a small side of him.

He let Ariadne know of his suspicions about Mal preventing him from building. He couldn't rely on a suspicion though. He never did. Suspicions were guesses, based on his own preconceptions. Even if he knew it was likely true, he couldn't quite be sure, because he didn't know half of it. He didn't have all the pieces. And it tortured him because it always escaped him, the last part of the big picture, the key to Cobb's psyche. Without it, he just found himself somewhere in the middle, somewhere in a dream.

Some Point Man he was.

Internally, he was struggling with the need to be Dom's friend and support him throughout this crisis, but at the same time, respect his own code of principles that forbade him to endanger a mission foolishly.

He always ended up hating himself for coming short on one end of the problem.

It was a win-lose situation. In this job, there was always something that had to go. It was personal life, maybe friends, maybe ethics or even sanity.

So people gave up many important things just for the sake of dreaming.

Giving up on life might be the last thing to give.

Ariadne looked shocked and mortified when he told her that Mal had died. It was one of the predictable consequences of this 'job'. It entailed a commitment hard to find anywhere else.

He had never known Mal personally. He had only met her a couple of times. But she had seemed a lovely woman as Cobb's partner and wife. She was smart, beautiful, strong, and most of all ambitious, just like her husband.

There was nothing that she wouldn't want to try. There were no boundaries she did not set to cross.

Whatever she did, it had to be meaningful, it had to take the world by surprise.

It had to be larger than life. And twice as creative.

He had admired that in her.

Admittedly, he had resented her for it as well. Because she had everything he lacked.

She reminded him he was always falling short, although he seemed to be so impeccably high.

Mal was the constant shadow over Cobb's shoulder, reminding him he would never understand the kind of bond that two brilliant minds had. She also always made sure he knew he would never be as good as Cobb, or deserve him as a partner.

When Mal had died, he had been ashamed, because he had not felt sad. He had felt empty.

The news had struck him as some absurd notion, as some absurd gateway to a perverse freedom.

Only when he saw what it did to his friend, did he feel the pain. Only when her death became more than Cobb could handle, did he understand her necessity. Or at least he pretended, he tried to understand.

Ariadne asked him what she was like in real life. He had to be honest.

A small, unperceivable wave of anger and regret pierced his voice as he replied.

'She was lovely.'

He turned away immediately, staring at the projections on the other side of the room.

Ariadne wanted to ask him more, but she felt it wasn't the right place or time. Or maybe he wasn't even the right man to ask.

She was curious. She was hungry to know.

It wasn't just this world.

All these people had intricate lives that moulded into the dream world. She felt compelled to know more about them.

She thought she wouldn't be able to find much about Arthur, though, because she suspected there wasn't a lot to discover. He showed his true self in all his actions and words. He didn't hide. Or at least he gave her that strong impression. He gave her the impression of unwavering confidence.

But Cob...that was an entirely different matter.

'So...' she continued after a long silence, in which they kept walking, 'what else would you like to teach me?'

'Well, there's something else that could possibly help you in building the maze. It's called a fake kernel. Well, I call it that. Basically, what the maze appears to be to the dreamer is also a factor. You not only have to design a maze, but you have to make it look like it's something entirely different, or at least that, at the bottom of it, he will find what you want him to find and not what's really there. Does that make sense to you?'

Ariadne frowned slightly as she poured over the thought.

'So, basically, if let's say, I make one level a bank, the subject will conclude that there is money in it. But in actuality I would be placing something else in there. So a bank would be a good place to hide something completely unrelated to money.'

'Something along those lines,' he agreed, nodding his head pleased. She was getting somewhere. She wasn't half-bad, he decided. She still needed a lot of training, though.

She was so young. Her round hazel eyes reminded him of the eyes of a child.

He had checked her file thoroughly. He thought it had been a mistake when he found out she was only three years younger than him. She seemed a lot younger.

He stayed up one night reading her college student file. It had been an interesting read. It hadn't revealed enough, but he hadn't been exactly interested in finding out more. What he found was that, the only special academic achievement of her life had been this scholarship to Paris. It's as if fate had brought her to the place where it all begins.

She could have taken other scholarship, she could have never left home. She could have been lousy at this. She could have been weaker or stronger.

And her name was Ariadne, of all the ironic names in the world.

But she was a decent, kind girl and she was a good architect with a solid mind. There was nothing wrong with her.

She was exactly in the middle, between the dangerous extremes.

Just like him, in a way.

She looked so average and common, though.

And yet so delicate and sweet. She wasn't too pretty or too plain. In that respect, he felt she was almost too normal.

That's why he felt slightly more comfortable around her. He didn't have to be so tense or so focused around her, because she only offered him peaceful normality.

He didn't have to try and hide his shortcomings, because she didn't seem to see them, or if she did, she didn't care to talk about them.

She had turned outjust as expected when he had first seen her in Paris.

From the first second of their meeting, he knew she would only remind him of one thing; that he was the Point Man.

**Don't forget to leave a review, thanks :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is the second chapter of the story:) I hope you will like it. It continues where the first left off. On another note, thanks a bunch for the reviews and the helpful criticism. Also, thanks to Melissa for the kind first review, I appreciate it :) **

**Please tell me what you think! (Ari and Arthur ftw of course)**

Arthur opened the large French windows and they stepped out into the courtyard, leaving some of the projections inside. Ariadne looked back and saw them walk to and fro without a single moment of hesitation.

Now that they were outside, it seemed that the conversation they had had inside was going to be abandoned. For a while at least.

The soft rays of sunshine were filtered through the thick canopies of the trees surrounding the building.

There were a couple of benches on the left and a tennis court on the right.

Two young women were playing, both wearing snow-white tennis outfits.

When they saw Ariadne and Arthur walk their way, they stopped and the tennis ball fell at Arthut's feet.

He picked it up and looked at it with little interest.

'Have you decided on your totem?' he asked.

Ariadne pulled her red jacket tighter, because it was mildly colder outside. She pushed her hands in her pockets.

'Not yet. I'm having some difficulty finding something unique and personal. There are hundreds of things...'

'You need to find something only you can control, an object whose secret purpose only you know. The object must be your key to reality, so in the dream world, it must have opposite or different properties or features from those in the real world.'

'Yours is a loaded die, right?' she asked and she saw him nod from the corner of her eye. 'Why the die?'

He threw the ball back at the tennis girls. They smiled and waved at him warmly.

He raised a brow, sneaking a glance at Ariadne. Her subconscious really _was_ polite. But it was _his_ dream, so he wouldn't expect anything to go wrong.

'Well, in my case, I chose the die because I hate gambling or any games based on luck. So I chose something that would remind me of my real self in the dream world. It probably doesn't make that much sense but...'

'No, it does,' she said quickly. 'Somehow it does. You chose something negative to have a definite impact. I guess I could go with that.'

'You have to find it on your own,' he repeated.

'I will. Wouldn't want to be lost between dream world and reality, would I?'

'Well,' Arthur began, shrugging his shoulders, 'it won't be such a big risk for you in any case. You won't be going in with us.'

Ariadne stopped and stared at him slightly surprised.

'Oh, I won't?'

'No, of course not. We need you to design the levels for us and then teach them to us. That will be all. There's no need for you to put yourself in danger,' he told her.

Ariadne nodded her head, trying not to sound or appear disappointed. She had no reason to be. She had suspected it would be like this. Experiencing the dream world was more like a forbidden fruit. She wasn't allowed to bite more than once.

'Besides,' Arthur added, reading her face quickly, 'it would be too dangerous. You're far too young and you have no experience in this field of work. We would have one more concern with us that we do not need.'

'Too young? You're not exactly a senior,' she observed.

He chuckled. 'That I am not, but I do have six years of experience which you lack.'

Ariadne nodded, looking away. She knew he was right. It wouldn't be smart or safe for her to get further involved.

That didn't mean, of course, that a part of her didn't still feel disappointed.

'How did you get involved with this in the first place?' she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, in a noncommital gesture. He looked back at the tennis girls. He was stalling. And trying to evade the question.

He was tired of this kind of question and he was tired of the same stereotypical answer he always had to give.

'I knew the right people and they knew me,' he replied reluctantly.

He almost grimaced. Every time, he had to say that. Like a bad rhyme that wouldn't go away.

It belonged to his usual set of sentences he had committed to memory and used like he did a shirt or a pair of pants.

Ariadne understood from his manner that he didn't want to discuss it any further.

'Lucky for you,' she mumbled, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear.

'The dream world, as you have experienced it yourself, can be quite unpleasant sometimes. So it doesn't always feel like luck.'

'Well, would you want to do anything else?' she asked, challengingly.

After this, would _she _want to do anything else? Would _anyone_?

He paused for a moment, trying to choose the best sentence to answer this. In the end, he settled for the monosyllabic truth.

'No.'

'I thought as much,' she replied.

Arthur looked at his watch. The song started playing in his head. The dream was ending.

* * *

After they both woke up, he offered her a glass of water.

They both sat at the edge of their lounge chairs, drinking from their glasses. The warehouse was sunny and warm.

Glancing at him through her eyelashes, she wondered if he ever took off that uncomfortable-looking tie. Or if he ever wore any T-shirts.

She didn't envy him. She could have never worked in such stiff clothes.

He looked like the gunman in those fancy, elegant thrillers. The paid assassin or some sort of mercenary.

But he wasn't a typical American agent. He looked more like a French or Italian spy, someone suave and well-mannered that wore the right clothes and dined at the right places.

But of course, she was being silly. She always liked to make ridiculous theories about the people around her. Make them appear bigger or smaller than they were. Make them more romantic, or more realistic.

It was one of her secret hobbies. Now that she was older, she was slowly beginning to give up the habit.

But from time to time, some colourful character still managed to make her think of French noir films and then she wouldn't be able to help herself.

As for Arthur, he wasn't thinking about anything. Every time he went under, he kept his mind blank. When he woke up, he had a hard time getting back to his thoughts.

He noticed Ariadne staring slightly.

'Um, where's Cobb?' she asked at one point.

'Mombasa. He's there recruiting another member for the team,' he replied.

'Who?'

'A forger. We'll need one for the job.'

'Forger of objects?'

'And people too.'

'Forger of people? Like he could make a perfect copy of someone?' she asked, thinking it was some sort of absurd trick she couldn't understand.

'Basically, yes. In the dream world, he can impersonate that person.'

'Wait, you mean to say that, in the dream world, he could appear as someone else? He has the ability to _be _someone else?'

'To the subject of the dream and the projections, yes. He would take the appearance of that person. It takes a lot of training though.'

Ariadne could not believe her ears.

'Amazing...' she whispered.

Arthur fought the urge to roll his eyes. It had been a very long time since he had felt the same awe as she did. He had to make allowances for this young, naive girl who didn't know anything about his world.

At least she was a fast-learner and she was willing to learn.

'So do you know this particular forger?' she asked, curious again.

'I guess you could say that,' he muttered, looking at his watch again.

Ariadne waited expectantly for him to continue. He almost smiled internally. This girl had a problem with curiosity.

'Him and I,' he continued amused, 'we go way back. But we haven't kept in touch.'

'Oh, really? Probably because he's in Mombasa, right?'

This time he actually smiled. She was _really_ far too curious.

'You're trying to ask me more about him while trying to seem like you aren't,' he remarked, amused.

'It's not the polite thing to do, but yes, I am prying, because we're going to work with him so I want to know more about him. It's the natural thing to do.'

Her reasoning was very sweet and naive, he decided.

'Well, all you need to know about him is that his name is Eames and he is an arrogant and clever English man with no regard for common sense. In that aspect, he fits with us well,' he said, meaning him and Cobb.

Ariadne chuckled, more at the fact that Arthur was trying to give a harmless, trivial description of this man than at what he was saying.

She had never heard of this kind of forger before. To her, he was the most fascinating man in the world right now, but to Arthur, he was just an old acquaintance.

'And he is right for the job?'

'Cobb wouldn't go to such lengths to get him if he weren't.'

'Such lengths?'

'Let's just say Mombasa is not a safe place for him right now,' he concluded getting up.

She was about to say something in regards to that, but he straightened his tie and went to the desk to pack up the suitcase.

'Well, I think it's enough dream building for one day. I have other things to attend to and I am sure you do as well,' he said briskly.

The words felt like a rush of cold wind on her face. She immediately got up, thinking that he didn't want to waste any more time with her for the remains of the day. She understood that he was a busy man and she was just a Parisian student.

'You're right, I should go, I am sort of busy with school right now. Exams and all that. So I guess you, I mean Cobb, or someone will give me a call,' she blabbered, stammering a bit.

He looked back at her and smiled patiently.

'Yes, of course. Don't worry about that. Until then, you should practice building mazes more. On paper, that is.'

'Oh right, it's a good idea. I'll get right on it,' she said, nodding her head.

'Good then,' he muttered, turning away again.

'I'll see myself out then,' she said and took her leave quietly, looking back to see Arthur still at the desk with his back turned to her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Finally finished the third chapter, after some difficulty, and I must say it's a weird, convoluted mess. But I rather like it. I hope you will like it as well:) **

**I'm trying to flesh out the characters and the relationship between them, how one makes the other feel. I hope I get that across.  
**

**The sentences in French are translated in the brackets. French is not my mother tongue so please French readers don't bite if there are any annoying mistakes, I tried my best :)  
**

**Thanks to all the reviewers and readers and to _Sophia _for her nice review:) **

**Please let me know what you think! Reviews make me happier than chocolate, which is saying something :P**

Everyone in the classroom was looking at her expectantly. She could only hear the sound of the tram outside. There was an eerie silence in the room. So nothing but the usual small sounds, like someone dropping a pencil, a girl coughing in the first row and her professor cleaning the panes of her glasses.

'Ariadne, tu peux continuer,' the professor told her, shrugging her shoulders. (Ariadne, you may continue)

She was standing in front of them, presenting the basis of her thesis.

'Alors,' she said, cleaning her throat, 'cette partie est dessinée au-dessus, donc l'ongle est un peu renforcé.' (So then, this part is drawn from above, so the angle is a bit reinforced)

The girl in the front row coughed again.

'La plupart de fenêtres rondes est montée vers l'ouest, et les autres, plus petites, vers le nord, en créant un espace de lumière plus focalisé dans ces chambres, tandis que les verres, qui sont en effet les murs, permettent le movement de la lumière partout.' (Most of the round windows are placed on the western side, but the other, smaller ones, are placed on the northern side, creating a space of light more strongly felt in those chambers, whereas the walls, which are actually made of glass, allow the light to reach every corner)

The professor nodded, encouraging her to continue. She seemed slightly intrigued by her choice of design.

'Tu t'es un peu inspirée de Ribart, n'est ce pas? Un choix obscure. Je vois le ventre de l'éléphant. Pas si clair mais tu en as conçu une version moderne et tu as aussi utilisé le mobilier qui se plie dans le plancher. Très interessant.'

(You drew inspiration from Ribart, didn't you? An obscure choice. I see the elephant's stomach. Not very clearly, albeit. But you did create a modern version of it and you've also used the furniture, which folds into the floor. Very interesting)

Ariadne let a tiny smile appear on her lips she felt relief Madam Lapaditte was not easy to please.

Maybe everything would go alright for once and she might actually get a grade higher than 7 at this course. Miracles happened every day. Maybe today was the lucky day.

The silence was broken.

A ringtone suddenly burst into her ears.

The students gaped at her in shock. They checked their bags in fear. Simultaneously, they let out a breath of relief. It wasn't theirs. The professor looked around the class outraged

If there was one thing she could not stand it was cell phones and their ringing. Everyone knew that.

'Qui a osé?' she snapped. (Who has dared?)

Ariadne put a palm over her face in agony. It was hers. She had left it open in case she received a call from the team. She had forgotten for once to shut it.

'Madame professeur, je suis très désolée. C'est le mien. Je l'ai laissé ouvert', she whispered ashamed. (Madam, I am very sorry, it's mine, I didn't shut it off)

'Pourrais je demander purquoi?' (Might I ask why?)

'Ah, je devais recevoir un coup de fil regardant un travail,' she mumbled. (Oh, I was supposed to receive a phone call regarding a job)

That took everyone by surprise. A general wave of whispers was heard around the class. People were giving each other curious looks.

Ariadne Miller had got a job offer. She wasn't the most outstanding student of the year, that was for sure.

Craziest? Yes. Most brilliant? Not by far.

Many people knew her. Not by name, but by reputation.

There were some who called her schizo. Others just thought she was obsessive.

She was the girl that had come to Architecture because she liked aesthetics.

She was the girl that had no idea what to do with Architecture, per se. She was the one that treated it like an abstract, immaterial notion.

She was the one that always tried the boldest and most dangerous ideas. But it could have also been said she was the one that always tried the stupidest ones.

She sacrificed physical laws for the sake of creativity. She came up with (very) silly projects, tastefully designed and laid out, but that didn't add up to much in the real world.

Many would have called that being bohemian. But she sometimes went overboard. Much overboard.

Who had trusted her enough to hand her a job?

Probably someone as crazy as she was.

Needless to say, to her colleagues, she was the harmless idiot.

To the faculty staff she was Scarf Girl.

Scarf Girl was a hardworking student, but inevitably, a dreamer. A dreamer fed by illusions.

To Miles, Scarf Girl was special. Just because she always dreamed her architecture.

Scarf Girl never drank, never smoked, never wore dark eyeliner, and always attempted to fit in with her classmates by going out with them on any available occasion.

Scarf Girl followed them in cafes and bars, trying to make conversation, trying to be cheerful and casual. She joined them, even if she didn't like it all the time, strongly believing that if she couldn't relate to other people, that was her problem, not theirs.

Scarf Girl didn't know any better.

But right now, Scarf Girl was in trouble.

'I'd better go shut that off,' she mumbled in English, running off to her seat.

When she turned around, she saw the professor marking something on her canvass, her back turned to them. When she walked away, Ariadne saw the red grade. It was a seven.

Of course. Could it be anything else?

The class ended shortly afterwards. Usually by now Ariadne would have joined the after-discussions. And for once, people were more than eager to talk to her about it. Everyone was dying to know what that so-called job offer of hers entailed.

But she didn't have time for that right now.

She called back the foreign number that had caused her so many problems during the class.

'Hello?'

'Ariadne. It's Arthur.'

Not like he had needed to say that. She instantly recognized his voice.

'Be in front of the college in twenty minutes. I'll pick you up.'

Ariadne frowned, checking her schedule from her purse.

'I already know you don't have any more classes,' Arthur added.

Ariadne dropped her schedule in surprise.

Of course he knew. It was his job to know.

'Oh, right, yeah, I didn't… well, I guess I'll meet you in front,' she babbled.

'Good then. See you there.'

She shut her phone and put it in her purse again. She didn't know why she always had such a nervous reaction to Arthur.

With all his problems and obsessions, she felt more comfortable around Cobb, because he, at least, showed he had weaknesses. He seemed more human, more flawed. He didn't intimidate her with his perfectly unaffected attitude.

But Arthur did exactly that, reminding her she was a clumsy school girl with absolutely no experience, in any field whatsoever.

Also, the fact that she of all people was involved in something so extraordinary, so out of place, so…illegal, was mind blowing.

Half the time she had a hard time concealing her enthusiasm.

She walked around the college dorm singing to herself. She spent all and I mean all of her free time drawing only mazes, one more elaborate than the other and in the morning, after waking up, she would jot down what she thought she had dreamt the night before.

She even wanted to run around school yelling 'I am doing something amazing, something that very few know about!'

Of course, she never even ran.

And she never told anyone and never would.

* * *

Ariadne waited in front of the college patiently until a black Mustang veered around the corner and she saw Arthur in it. He was wearing a black shirt and a grey tie as usual. His expression was that of a busy man.

She quickly got in the passenger's seat.

Arthur was already driving away when she put on her seatbelt.

'Hi,' she said, smiling at him.

'Hey,' he replied.

He saw that he was carrying several portfolios with her and she was barely struggling to keep them all in her lap.

'Why don't you put those in the back seat?'

She smiled again, gratefully, and proceeded to dump them in the back, straining her neck in order to do so, because she had already put her seatbelt on.

Arthur watched her amused as she fidgeted and squirmed under the seatbelt.

'Do you want me to drop you off at your dorm to put those away?' he asked.

'Oh, no, those are the mazes I've been working on. Remember? Just like you said.'

'Hm, yes I did say that. How many are there?'

'About twenty five or so. I'll show them to you when we arrive at the warehouse,' she said looking out the window. It was good that she wasn't looking directly at him, because she would have noticed something similar to surprise cross his face.

'Twenty five? It's been…three days,' he remarked.

'Well, I had some free time on my hands,' she replied, arranging her scarf.

'And I sometimes get the feeling I'm drawing in my sleep too. Which now would actually be a possibility,' she chuckled, alluding to the dream world.

He stopped at a red light. He took the time to eye her carefully.

Was this girl really as stable as she seemed? But what was he saying, she didn't seem stable at all.

'Yes, that is a possibility,' he said, agreeing to her previous statement.

'Cloudy sky today. It might rain,' she observed. 'Not very windy so it might be a small shower.'

He nodded his head, not sure of what to reply. She seemed to be fishing for words.

Ariadne always had the bad habit of starting a conversation with anyone, no matter the time and place.

She noticed the radio was on. She hadn't noticed it at first, with all the commotion and traffic.

It was playing a song she had heard before. She wondered where she had heard it before. She tapped her finger on her leg to the song, thinking of possible names.

Immersed in trying to remember, she didn't notice that she was playing with her scarf rather oddly. She was pulling at it, as if she was hot.

Arthur noticed her finger tapping and her scarf playing but chose not to say anything about it. He also noticed she was constantly moving, in one way or another.

She was like a mirror of awkward teenagehood.

After a while, she gave up on trying to remember the song, but recalled another pressing matter in her head.

'Oh, I wanted to ask you, is Cobb alright? Has he returned from Mombasa? I hope nothing bad happened to him.'

'He hasn't returned yet, but he is alright, I've called him and checked,' he said, trying to abate her concerns.

But she wasn't finished.

'Oh, that's good. Great actually. Has he found the forger?'

'Yep. They will both be here in about two days.'

'That's good news. Can I ask, unless of course it's private, why Cobb was in danger in Mombasa?'

'Yes,' he replied. 'It's private.'

Ariadne's shoulders sagged.

'Oh…you can't tell me?'

'I don't need to tell you. It's none of your concern. It would only distract you from your job. And it's in the past anyway.'

'It involves one of the members of the team. Shouldn't I show some concern when I find out he is in trouble? Should I just not care?'

Arthur sighed, realizing he had been a bit too harsh. He had been used to treating Nash this way.

He couldn't do the same with a (how old was she again? oh yeah) twenty-two year old female.

'Okay, look, our last job didn't go as well as planned and our employers weren't pleased with the results. Safe to say, they're trying to get back at us. We aren't going to allow that.'

He saw the look of fear that crossed Ariadne's face.

'Before you panic, let me assure you we have it under control and no one is going to come and threaten you.'

Ariadne quickly dismissed the idea with her hand.

'Oh, I wasn't panicking, I am simply concerned,' she said. 'I don't really know what I'm getting myself into, I guess.'

'You of all people shouldn't worry about your safety. They know nothing about you. And you're only the Architect. Which means you're here to design and nothing else.'

She nodded.

'I'll make sure you're safe, anyway,' he added, trying to reiterate his point.

Once again, he felt very much like the Point Man around her.

It was a reassuring feeling, although he was supposed to reassure her.

'Thank you,' she replied. 'I promise I won't be too much of a burden.'

They stopped at another red light. He sneaked another glance at her, slightly puzzled at her last statement.

She started fidgeting with her scarf yet again. He almost wished he could snatch that damn thing away from her so she could stop doing that.

It was slightly annoying.

Also, she kept looking back at her portfolios that were lying in the back seat. Almost as if she was afraid they would disappear.

_Odd_, he thought. _I didn't think she had such a low self-esteem. A bit self-deprecating too. _ _  
_

_In the dream world she didn't seem insecure. Not like this anyway. _

He chuckled internally.

_She's almost too much of a teenager._

He had to admit he didn't know a whole lot about her, except for what his job implied he should know. There was also the fact that Miles had singled her out from the swarm of students. He wondered what the criteria for the selection had been.

What he did know for a fact, however, was that the more she fidgeted and squirmed, the more she acted awkwardly around him, the more she tried making small talk to diffuse her own self-consciousness, the more she proved to be what he thought she was and the more he felt more comfortable. Even though he was tense and careful all the time, around her he didn't feel he had to prove anything. Around her, he didn't have to be self-conscious, because she was self-conscious enough for the both of them.

She wasn't comfortable around _him_.

She didn't seem to feel comfortable full stop.

That seemed to be her natural habitat; always feeling on the edge. Acting like a neurotic workaholic 24/7.

She had no other way of expressing herself, outside of drawing.

Not that he expected her to be comfortable around him. Or wanted to.

He liked it that she was on her guard. And ready to burst out any minute.

Once again it made him feel strong.

'So…how was school?' he asked after a momentary silence. Maybe he could judge her better after hearing her talk about her personal life.

Ariadne blinked surprised. She hadn't expected that question. It wasn't the type of thing she thought Arthur would ask. But then again, maybe she didn't know him that well.

'It was alright I guess. Same as always,' she answered, wondering briefly if this was some sort of trick.

'Same as always? Hard to believe,' he muttered.

'Actually, it isn't. All those rumours you hear about French schools are false.'

He chuckled. She had made a joke. That was a start. Maybe she was getting comfortable.

'Lucky I have you to show me the real face of L'école Française.'

She grinned, biting the inside of her cheek. She liked this side of him, whichever it was.

'So tell me more. I'm curious,' he added, although he didn't sound curious.

'Well, some of the teachers, like Miles whom you know, are amazing. But some are frustrating. It's not about what they demand. It's about their standards. You always have to comply with their standards. It doesn't matter whether your work is actually good. They judge you by a whole different set of principles. They give you a beautiful idea, but then they expect you to make it boring.'

'They expect you to make it boring? Why would they encourage that? Maybe they just expect you to make it feasible,' he replied.

'It can still be feasible,' she protested.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders as if to say he couldn't know for sure.

'You don't have to rob it of all its beauty in order to achieve some standards,' she added.

'No one said you should. You just shouldn't always think beautiful equals good,' he countered.

'I know, of course... I just have a way of thinking that physics should obey me and not the other way around. That I should be the one in control. That the structure should depend on my view and no one else's.'

'You can do that in the dream world.'

'I know and I am thrilled about it. I just wish I could apply it in the real world.'

'That's a bit childish now, isn't it?' Arthur asked, unable to stop himself.

'I don't mean that I want to ignore laws of nature and physics. I don't mean that I wish to create impossible structures just for the sake of it. I am not unaware of the possibilities of life. What I do want is to find solutions to make the impossible possible. I would like to build buildings that would not be at the mercy of any earthquake or any miscalculation of nature. I would like to make them independent of some unnecessary mundane aspects that prevent them from achieving their full potential.'

There was a long pause after this precipitated monologue in which she avoided looking at him directly. He didn't avoid her gaze.

'Okay,' he said finally. 'I think I understand.'

He thought he understood.

The girl reminded him of Cobb, in a good way.

She had the same naive and beautiful ideas about the world.

She was just as emotional as Dom used to be, if not more predictable.

She also had an innocent, sweet way of looking at life and architecture.

Sure, she wasn't brilliant, but she still tried to shine in her own way.

He smiled internally.

She was your typical insecure, misfit, misunderstood, head-full-of-dreams, hopeful-believer, infatuated teenager.

It was comforting to know he could still be around someone like that.

All these years, he had been around strong, powerful, distant, calculating, pragmatic people, full of secrets and hypocrisy.

It was refreshing to be around Ariadne now.

'We're almost there,' he let her know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Finally, the fourth chapter is done:) I hope you enjoy it!**

**Thanks to _Sophia _for the kind review, I'm glad you find the characters realistic.**

**Please excuse any embarrassing grammar mistakes, I might have missed some, I am a bit tired:)  
**

**Please tell me what you think, good or bad, I don't mind:) **

'Number four and seventeen need more brushing up, but other than that they all seem good,' Arthur spoke after a while. He was inspecting her mazes. The layouts were scattered over the large metal table.

Even though he was not an expert in this field, he could see that she had worked hard at them. They weren't half bad either.

She needed to do better, that was certain, but for starters, this was quite good.

He liked that she was dedicated. It was hard not to be, when the stakes were so high and the subject was so interesting.

He could almost see Ariadne standing behind him, a giddy, nervous expression on her face. He could hear her fingers cracking together in anxiousness.

When he turned around to confirm it, though, he only saw her staring back at him with a content expression on her face.

She had managed to hide it well.

'Thanks. I tried changing the environment for each of them, so that I could use it to my advantage,' she explained, when he kept staring curiously at one particular maze.

'I like this one,' he said, pointing at number fifteen, the one he was looking at. 'We should try this one.'

'Try?' Ariadne echoed.

'Yes. We start the machine, get into the dream and check the viability of your maze.'

'Wait. You want us to go into the dream and see if the maze will help us hide from the projections?' she asked, her tone higher than usual.

'That would be the plan, yes. If you think it's too much I will wait for Cobb to return. Although it would be useful if the maker of the maze was there,' Arthur said.

'It's not too much for me, it's just...I've never done that before.'

'And you're worried. I understand. Relax, there are no dangers involved. It's a simple task. No one will get hurt,' he assured her, already getting out the machine.

'Hey, I haven't said yes yet,' she interrupted him, seeing as he was already putting up the lounge chairs.

He stopped in full motion and looked up at her, curiosity mixed with irritation in his expression. Nash had never put up such a fight. He hadn't asked that many questions either.

'Okay,' he said finally letting go of the chairs. 'I'll do this by myself.'

Ariadne opened her mouth in surprise, but she closed it quickly. She had nothing to say to that. She simply folded her arms and nodded her head, unsure whether she should contradict him at this point, since she obviously wasn't so eager about the idea.

Arthur sat down on the chair, holding the large paper in front of him, studying it vigorously. He meticulously went over every small aspect and checked the route out (there were two) four times. He was trying to visualise it.

Five or ten minutes passed in this quiet, eerie silence broken only by the sounds of the rain pouring outside and Ariadne shuffling through her mazes, while keeping her eyes on Arthur.

Finally, he nodded his head and tied the PASIV to his wrist. Ariadne went over to him and asked him if he was ready to do this. He nodded his head. She pushed the button.

Before he closed his eyes, she swore she heard him groan in annoyance.

As he fell asleep and his entire body changed from tensed to immobile, his face also underwent a gentle transformation as the creases and wrinkles of stress and tiredness vanished and left behind a peaceful, blank expression.

The blue vein still pulsed at his forehead, though.

He was still not completely free of himself.

She looked at her watch. It was half past four in the afternoon. The rain was almost smashing down the windows. The sound was deafening now.

She suddenly realized they were sitting too close to the windows and the shards would fall on his face.

An irrational instinct made her draw the chair further away.

She sighed.

Waiting for a man to wake up from dreaming her maze felt like she was taking an exam. Arthur was evaluating her work. Her employer wanted to see if her work amounted to anything useful.

And here she was, sitting by herself, waiting for him to find something that could go wrong. She was leaving it entirely up to him. She couldn't have a say in it now, now that he was asleep. She also couldn't know what he was thinking at the moment. It was making her very nervous.

There was only one viable solution.

She quickly sat down on the opposite lounge chair and went under as well.

She woke up at the sound of birds chirping.

Something fell over her eyes. Something pink. Pink petals.

They smelt like spring. She scratched her face. Her hand was sparkling in the soft, hazy dusk light. She was lying on soft grass.

The Japanese gardens.

She sighed relieved. She was where she had planned to be.

Much to her surprise, when she got up on her elbow, she saw Arthur standing by a nearby tree, his hands in his pockets.

She raised an eyebrow confused.

'I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away for more than...' he said looking at his watch, 'five minutes.'

'What?'

'Give me some credit. It means I'm getting to know you.'

'Getting to know me? I followed you because I thought it wouldn't be wise for me to stay out of my own designs. I know the maze better.'

'Mmm, I am persuaded to think otherwise. You wanted to prove yourself. Your need to be acknowledged, trumped your fear of the unknown. Which is a perfectly natural thing for someone like you. It's also a good quality if are to work with us,' he said.

Ariadne wrinkled her nose, slightly bothered by his arrogant, know-it-all tone with which he addressed her.

'Fine, maybe I do want to prove something. Prove that this maze is good,' she muttered, getting up.

'This isn't an exam,' he said, walking towards her.

The cherry trees looked red in the dusk light. Soft petals were falling on his shoulders. He looked so out of place in that scenery. Even the grass he walked on was foreign to someone like him.

'It is for me,' she replied firmly, looking around at the endless rows of trees, trying to regain her normal balance.

'Look, if you are concerned about failing this or us letting you go...'

'I am not concerned at all. I just like to take my work seriously,' she said, pulling away some strands from her face. She looked determined and ready. Again, hiding it well.

'If you're scared, don't be,' he reassured her. 'Not before it has even started.'

'I told you I am not scared. Not anymore anyway. I want to prove my worth,' she snapped.

Arthur smiled. She really was a lot more confident in the dream world.

How could anyone be more confident here, on strange, unknown, unfriendly lands, than on safe ground, in the real world?

Dreams were all unstable, no matter what.

Why is it that her stability was found in something completely unstable?

Suddenly, he saw the figure of a man, some feet away. He appeared to be a gardener. He was an old man with a very long, black beard, tied in knots. He felt he knew the man. He was familiar. He had seen him somewhere.

He thought he knew where.

'We should start then,' Arthur said, staring at the old man. 'All we need to do is to get through this garden, right?'

'Yes, mainly. There will be other...branches on the way,' she said, eyeing a young woman that was standing next to a rose bush far away. She was holding a yellow fan adorned with blue birds. The fan had a small needle at the tip of the handle.

'Alright, lead the way,' he said, taking off his jacket. It was quite warm, even though the sun was setting.

Paper lanterns were scattered here and there, hidden in the large green and white canopies. Some of them were already lit.

The road in front of them looked clear enough. It looked like a straight run. But Ariadne had made this illusion on purpose. It was actually a steep climb down, with many narrow turns.

Arthur helped her climb down the first terrace and they continued walking. Ariadne suddenly made a sharp left at a barely visible hedge. Even Arthur found it difficult to notice. He nodded his head pleased.

Ariadne smiled to herself and continued walking, one step ahead of him.

When Arthur looked back, though, he saw that the old man was following them. And so was the young lady with the needle-pointed fan.

Ariadne was so immersed in the maze that she didn't care much for it. Arthur, however, cared for it.

They managed to lose them several times by climbing down other terraces, but the couple always managed to catch up.

By now, the sky was darkening. All the lanterns were lit. The garden looked majestic, with its shimmering tree tops and beautiful cherry flowers.

The visibility had decreased significantly, which was good news for them, because it meant it would be harder for the projections to follow.

The projections weren't attacking them though. In fact, they were just following as obediently as before.

Arthur needed to see them in action. But for that to happen, Ariadne needed to build something.

'Okay, I think we've walked enough. Now try and change something in the garden. It will instigate the projections.'

Ariadne gulped fearfully. She wasn't sure that was what she wanted. She liked this peaceful walk with Arthur through the maze. She didn't fancy being assaulted. Why couldn't they keep it this way?

Arthur could see she was afraid. Her soft complexion was only more pronounced in the weak light of the lanterns. Her large dark eyes were staring across the horizon fretfully.

She didn't voice her fears, however. She just clenched her fists, swallowed a little and closed her eyes.

A couple of feet away a heavy-looking, marble fountain appeared out of nowhere. It stood out like an ugly fortress among the beautiful rose bushes.

The young lady, who had shown a liking for those roses, started walking faster towards them. She took out the needle from her fan and threw it at them.

Both of them ducked and climbed down another terrace.

Five other projections appeared on their far left. They all sported the same yellow, blue-canaries fans. And they all looked like they were trouble.

Another sharp needle flew past their heads.

'Quickly, over here,' Ariadne told him and he nodded. They had spotted one of the maze's loops. They climbed down a ladder into a hole that was covered by a bush.

'I feel like Alice in Wonderland right now,' she muttered before they reached the ground.

They were now in an underground subway.

He blinked several times.

Yes, they were in an underground subway.

Arthur looked around with an appreciative eye. Everything looked exactly as it should. There were the tracks, the benches, the signs, the names of the stations, the ads and posters on walls, even the graffiti.

The sound of the oncoming tube snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up at the hole and saw the same darkening sky and the same Japanese garden up above.

Maybe he had underestimated Ariadne.

'Nice touch,' he said. 'I like it.'

'Thanks. I thought it would help,' Ariadne said, blushing slightly.

Arthur suddenly spotted someone standing on the tracks. It was the old man.

Ariadne stared at him in surprise.

'How did he get here before us? That's impossible,' she muttered worriedly.

Arthur thought he knew why. His forehead broke out in a cold sweat. Of course it was him. It was one of _them_.

He knew he had recognized him from somewhere. It was hard to place him though. He was one of many. And Arthur didn't and couldn't know all of _them _by heart. Well, his conscious mind couldn't.

The question was, what was he doing down here?

Usually, one like him appeared two layers into a dream. He never appeared during a routine training programme.

They heard the tube coming. The man was not moving from his spot. He was still as a statue. The sound of impending doom clamoured their ears.

Ariadne shouted at him, telling him to move. He shook his head, obstinately. She pleaded him.

'Please, get out of the way!'

But the man stared at Arthur angrily and only said:

'You are responsible for my children.'

He uttered those words in a solemn voice, as if he was saying goodbye to the world.

The words rang hollow in Arthur's ear. They stung his eyes and his breath with the strength of a million needles. He tried to focus on shooting him.

He was prevented by Ariadne running towards him. He lowered his gun and snatched her arm quickly, pulling her back.

Before she could see the disfigured, bloody body on the tracks, he took out his gun and shot the both of them.

Ariadne woke up with a jolt.

The first thing she heard was the roaring noise of the rain outside. Now, it was comforting. The warehouse was completely quiet. It was exactly as they had left it behind.

But for her, something had changed. The temperature. It was cold.

She pulled the red jacket to herself.

Arthur soberly got up and went over to his desk to grab a glass of water.

Ariadne stayed in the chair until she was sure she could breathe normally.

'I'm sorry I shot you, but I didn't want you to have to see...' he muttered. 'In any case, I think it went pretty well, despite the unforeseeable accident.'

'Went pretty well?' she gasped. 'Arthur, what was that? Who was he?'

'Who?'

'The old man, the projection. Why did he kill himself? Do projections normally do that?' she asked, getting up.

'No, it's not their usual style,' he said nodding. 'But this one was a bit different.'

'Why? Did you know him?'

'I could answer that, but then it would be irrelevant. He's just a man I have seen before. Probably during one of my previous jobs,' he replied stiffly.

'And what he said, was it irrelevant too? What did he mean by that?'

'I have no idea,' he said shrugging his shoulders. 'Probably my subconscious trying to send me different messages.'

'Involving children?' she scoffed.

'Why not? Does that seem a foreign subject to me?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ariadne blushed. She had put her foot in it again.

'Well, no, but it's obviously not that,' she said hastily. 'If your subconscious wanted to tell you something involving children don't you think he'd pick a different way? I mean suicidal man isn't the best of...'

'So, you're implying you know my subconscious better than I do.'

'No, I'm just...Look, what happened down there wasn't normal. It didn't happen during our first dream. No one tried killing themselves then. And this man knew you.'

'Look, I'm pretty sure he was someone I knew from my previous jobs,' he replied casually. 'It doesn't mean all that much. Besides, it's happened before. When you work in this sort of field, you are bound to have a few unresolved odds and ends. They tend to show up sometimes. But they're harmless. And they don't affect me. It's just people I have seen before.'

'And...usually all the people you know end up killing themselves in your dreams?'

'Hey, why don't you let me worry about this and you focus on the mazes, okay?' he said, feigning politeness.

She looked down at her feet meekly.

'I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry. I just thought Cobb was the only one with...issues.'

'I don't have any issues,' Arthur told her openly. 'You can choose to believe me or not. But trust me on this, you have nothing to worry about. I am immune to most of these occurrences.'

'Immune?'

'Yes. I have worked too long in these conditions. I am fairly impervious to these things.'

'Okay, if you say so. But you know, I was just trying to help...'

'It's alright. It's natural. Everything is new for you. You're young and curious. It's a good thing,' he said, walking up to her, holding a glass of water for her.

'Um, you're not that much older than me,' she countered.

He smiled briefly.

'Not in years, maybe, but...' he trailed off, staring at her large, protuberant eyes.

'I get it,' she sighed, a shadow flickering across her eyes.

'Cheer up, the maze was fine. You passed the test,' he said, smirking.

'I didn't even know I was taking one,' she joked.

'Next time, I will try not to shoot you,' he added.

'Yeah, I will never get used to being shot, that's for sure,' she said. 'But, will I need a gun too?'

'I don't think so. There would be no need. It's not like you're going in with us.'

'Right, yes, I keep forgetting that,' she said, waving her hand.

'Though, you do need a totem. You should probably start working on it.'

'Right, I kind of neglected that aspect. I don't suppose you're going to help me choose one, are you?'

'You supposed correctly.'

'Not even if I bribe you?' she asked, smiling.

'What could you possibly bribe me with?'

'Um, free dinner?'

Arthur titled his head back, amused. Was this cute, teenage girl actually trying to ask him out? The overly insecure Ariadne was trying to flirt with him? Or maybe he was imagining things.

He knew the kind of effect he had on women. He usually took advantage of it whenever he saw fit. He had always had relationships with older women. Much older.

He had never dealt with ones younger than twenty five, however.

And he had never been asked so openly before. It was very amusing.

Ariadne, however, hadn't intended for it to sound like a date. Now she felt embarrassed.

'Are you asking me out for dinner?'

'Um, I don't know, it sounds like that, doesn't it? But I actually meant it as colleagues. It's pretty late and I'm hungry and I thought...' she blabbered.

'Oh, well you should have told me then. I'm going to order. What would you like?'

Ariadne's shoulders sagged visibly. She really wanted to dine out. Paris was very pretty after it rained. It was a pity not to take advantage of that.

But he obviously wanted to stay in. He had already picked up his phone.

'Um, Indian I guess?' she told him awkwardly. He nodded and smiled.

After an hour or so, he went out to get the food and he came in with several large bags. Ariadne was sitting at one of the desks, modifying one of the sketches.

They both sat down at a large carpenter table next to the desks and started eating.

'So, I guess in a way, we are having dinner,' she chirped.

Arthur, who was poise and professionalism himself, had a very elegant, discreet way of eating.

Ariadne was more...practical. She had a different take on food.

He watched her amused as she tried not to make a fool of herself. She was trying to eat in the same proper manner as he, only she was failing at it rather badly.

She realized, however, that she had been wrong in her previous statement. This was barely what one would call a dinner between friends or colleagues. Even though they were sitting in proximity and were sharing the same food, she felt he was far away from her.

He was very quiet and his mind was definitely somewhere else. She had an inkling he was thinking about the old man in his dream.

'Are you okay?' she asked him suddenly.

'Yep. I was only going over some details in my head,' he answered.

'Do you think about work even when you're eating?' she blurted out.

'I always think about something. Why not work? Especially my kind of work.'

'Yes, but you should maybe take a break, once in a while.'

'Well, you don't know my usual schedule. I have time for everything. And if I don't have it, I make it,' he said pointing at the suitcase, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

'I see. You sure are crafty. Though technically speaking, that's called cheating,' she pointed out.

'No, it's called being efficient,' he countered.

She rolled her eyes and continued eating in silence, a small smile lingering at the corner of her lips.

'Um, Arthur?' she asked after a while.

'Yes?'

'Are you going to tell Cobb...about the incident in the dream?'

'I don't see the need for that. It was just a casualty. If I told him, he would dismiss it as a normal inconvenience,' he replied briskly.

Something told Ariadne he was lying. Cobb didn't seem like the type of person not to care for such details.

But she kept quiet.

'I should probably take you home, it's getting late,' he said looking at his watch.

'Wait, shouldn't we do another maze?' she asked.

'Tomorrow,' he muttered. 'You need your rest.'

Ariadne was sure he was the one that needed a break. He probably wanted to think about what had happened. He looked like the type to mull over each and every aspect of a problem. He couldn't be satisfied if he didn't.

'Okay, I guess we can call it a night.'

He locked the warehouse and they both walked to his car. When he opened the door for her, their fingers accidentally touched. She drew away quickly. He didn't seem to notice.

The drive home was relatively pleasant. Ariadne didn't need to tell him where to go. He already knew.

'It's my job to know,' he said smiling.

'Hm, you seem to know a lot about everyone, but does anyone know a lot about you?' she asked.

'Cobb perhaps, but generally no. I like to keep it that way. You can never be too careful,' he told her nonchalantly.

'Oh, it must be...it must be...'

'Must be what?'

'Lonely?' she offered, looking down.

'No, I rarely get lonely,' he said chuckling.

Ariadne frowned, trying to understand what he meant by that. Was he saying that he had a lot of friends? Not likely. Maybe he meant women. Was he saying he slept with many women?

Ariadne shook her head. She was being corny now. One guy told her he wasn't lonely and she instantly drew a stupid conclusion.

True, this wasn't just any guy. This was Arthur...

Wait, what was his name again?

'I'm sorry, but I never asked you, what is your last name?'

Arthur stiffened visibly.

'It's only Arthur. You can just call me Arthur. I don't need any another name,' he said, trying to smile.

Ariadne understood. He couldn't disclose that information. And even if he did give her a name, it would probably be fake. She had to remind herself that his work wasn't quite legal. He worked at a larger scale.

'Is Arthur your real name?' she suddenly asked.

'Yes. Is Ariadne yours?' he joked, trying to change the subject.

She chuckled. 'You think I'd willingly subject myself to countless mocking? Nah, it's my real name. My dad who incidentally is a history teacher, thought I should stand out a bit. He was worried I'd achieve little in life and thought that at least my name should resonate.'

Arthur smiled a first genuine smile as he stared down at her.

'I guess you proved him wrong.'

'Not yet,' she mumbled.

'Trust me, there aren't many architects of your age involved in this field. It is an achievement.'

'Thanks...'

She couldn't help but feel sore about the whole age thing. He kept reminding her how much younger she was than everyone else. As if he was worried she would forget.

'So tomorrow?' she asked.

'I'll give you a call, as usual,' he said.

She sighed.

The wet streets of Paris were a comforting sight for her. She just wanted to go to bed and try to forget about the old man.

'Meanwhile, you need to work on your totem,' he reminded her.

'Oh, yeah, I will, I promise.'

'I want some ideas from you tomorrow, okay?'

'You don't have to worry, I'm always full of ideas,' she replied jokingly.

But Arthur was already getting out of the car, helping her out. She got out awkwardly. Their fingers didn't touch this time.

She would have wanted to talk more, maybe say a proper goodbye, but he just whispered a good night to her and left her in front of her dorm, slightly disappointed.

Not that she wanted to be best friends or anything, but a cordial goodbye would have been nice.

She had a full night ahead of her. And the main task would be to find a totem.

* * *

When Arthur entered his apartment door, the first thing he did was to go to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and take two blue pills.

He then proceeded to take a shower and get ready for bed.

He discarded his clothes in his bedroom carelessly and toussled his hair. He sat on the bed for a while, lost in thought, smoking. He smoked three cigarettes before getting in the shower.

As the water fell rapidly on his face, wiping away the well-known creases and wrinkles of tiredness, his mind turned towards Ariadne.

He needed to think about her, as a distraction.

He remembered the way she had looked in the Japanese garden. Her complexion had been very soft. He liked to distract himself with pretty things.

She was moderately pretty. Aesthetically speaking, she was interesting, she had an aura of naiveté about her. Like a lost little girl that was searching for her teddybear.

She was just like any other teenage girl. Just not like most of the women he knew.

And that made all the difference.


End file.
